


Working Late

by Love2Slash



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, M/M, Office Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 10:47:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Love2Slash/pseuds/Love2Slash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Working late at the office one night, Louis stumbles upon something he was never supposed to see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Working Late

Working late is something Louis does frequently, but being at the office after midnight is unusual, even for him. More than satisfied with the work he's completed, he tidies his desk then picks up the file, tucks it under his arm and then sets off for Jessica's office, where he lays the file reverently in the center of her desk, knowing she'll easily find it there when she takes her seat first thing in the morning.

On his way back to collect his things, however, he's intrigued by the soft glow of light emanating from the far end of the hallway. 

Surely Harvey isn't working late alone at the office too? 

Louis feels a sudden stab of jealousy. He wants to make sure that he, Louis, will be the only one to crack this case for Jessica, and it'll be oh so unfair if Harvey steals his glory yet again. He can just imagine it: Harvey sneaking into Jessica's office and replacing Louis's file with one of his own, and the following morning, Jessica, purring with pride, heaping praise on Harvey and pumping up his already enormous ego. Bristling with indignation at the imagined misdemeanor, Louis marches down the hall towards the light, but what he sees makes him pull up short, and he swiftly drops and rolls behind the security of Donna's desk with all the skill and grace of a top gymnast, before peering hesitantly over the top of her cubicle, his mouth agape in shock.

Harvey is in his office all right, but he's not alone, and he's certainly not working either.

Louis stares, blinks, stares again, his jaw yawning on a hinge.

Really? Harvey and … Mike Ross? _Really?_

Apparently so, if the way they're kissing is anything to go by.

And boy, are they kissing.

Louis watches, mouth still open, eyes wide, as Mike Ross positively devours Harvey's face. Even at this distance and through the glass, he can hear the sound of eager lips smacking and tongues tangling. Harvey's jacket is off, his tie loose, and his arms are wrapped possessively around Mike, holding him closely in a tight embrace.

"Let me get at you," Mike pants as their mouths break apart, and then he's busy unbuckling Harvey's belt and tugging his pants open before skillfully maneuvering the older man backwards and dropping him down onto the leather couch.

"Oh my," Louis whispers, totally awed as he watches Mike going down, down between Harvey's thighs. He strains to see, rising on wobbly knees as far as he dare, but his view is somewhat restricted by the arm of the couch. He can see the top of Mike's head though, rhythmically bobbing, even if he can't actually see his mouth, but it's Harvey's face that draws his fascination. Amidst the wet sucking sounds of Mike's eager, busy mouth, Harvey's head is thrown back, his mouth open, and he moans lustily, the fingers of one hand curling in Mike's hair. Every now and then he raises his head from the backrest to glance down between his legs, his mouth mumbling words of encouragement as he watches, but then he leans back again, eyes closing, as the quiet, appreciative groans of, "Fuck, yes," or "God, Mike," tumble lightly from his bitten lips.

Louis gulps, watching as eventually Mike sits back on his heels, a long line of glistening, messy drool dangling from his mouth before he drags the back of his hand across his lips to wipe it away.

"You ready for me?" Harvey asks him.

"Baby, I'm always ready for you," Mike replies, grinning lazily, his voice deep and hoarse with lust. "You know that. Always."

For Louis, the words spike through him like an electric shock. 

Baby? 

Mike Ross actually just called the great Harvey Specter _baby?_

_What the actual fuck?_

Louis's mouth is stretched so wide it hurts and his eyes aren't far behind. He watches as Harvey appears to lift his hips and Mike tugs down his pants, and then he sees first one of his shoes and then the other fly through the air before each one lands with a soft thump.

"Mind those, they're the finest Italian leather," Harvey protests.

"Hah, like you care about that right now," Mike snorts, and Harvey laughs as his pants land beside his shoes in an untidy, crumpled heap.

Having grown accustomed to the idea that not only are Harvey Specter and Mike Ross seemingly _together,_ and that they really are about to fuck each other, Louis chokes back a muffled cry, unable to actually believe what he's seeing, for it's Harvey who's now leaning right back and spreading his legs wide, not Mike as he'd somehow expected, and it's Mike, not Harvey, who's leaning forward in order to press himself snugly in between the other man's thighs.

Harvey? Harvey Specter's about to let another guy fuck him in the ass? His associate, no less? 

_Wow,_ Louis thinks. _Just - just wow. Well, this is something I've gotta see._

Mike's mouth is on Harvey's throat now and Louis sees him bite down as Harvey yelps, and then Harvey's twisting impatiently and grasping Mike's hips, pulling him closer in towards him.

"Quit teasing me, Mike, and just fuck me already," he hears him gasp. "Please. I've waited all day for this. I've thought about nothing else."

"You were thinking all day about my cock?" Mike says, teasing some more, and he bends down, his face disappearing once more between Harvey's thighs, although lower this time, making Harvey gasp. "In the meeting with Jessica and Louis, you were thinking about my cock?" he says, as he comes grinning up for air, red lips all shiny and wet. "When you were taking the Hernandez deposition, you were really just thinking about my cock?"

Louis can see Harvey, his eyes half-mast with need, nodding, can see his lips forming the words, "Oh, yes Mike yes Mike yes Mike yes." 

"What were you thinking?" Mike asks him softly as he looks down, adjusting his hips. "That maybe I'd be doing something like _this …_ "

Louis then hears a strangled gasp fall from Harvey's mouth as Mike presses his hips forward, edging inside him.

"What about this?" Mike whispers, as Louis's ears strain to catch the sound. He watches, fascinated as Mike shuffles his knees further forward, amazed at the looseness of Harvey's hips as his legs fall completely open before he wraps them around Mike's waist, pulling him in.

"You like that, don't you?" Mike whispers, the rhythm of his hips slow as he punctuates his words with long deep, penetrating thrusts. "You really – love it – when I – fuck you - right?"

"Ahh, fuck," Harvey cries. 

"That's a yes then?" Mike murmurs.

"God, yes," Harvey replies. 

"Tell me."

"I love it, I love it, I love it," Harvey cries. "I love _you_."

At this, Louis, yet again, is shocked.

Not shocked anymore because _Oh my God, Mike Ross is fucking Harvey Specter,_ and not even shocked anymore because _Oh my God, Mike Ross is fucking Harvey Specter and I'm hiding on the floor behind Donna's desk and secretly watching them._

No, he's shocked because he's suddenly realized that what he's watching isn't simply just sex. It's not just two horny, red-blooded men taking advantage of the moment to get themselves off and rid themselves of their pent-up frustration and need. 

No.

The looks and smiles, the tender caresses, the soft cries and frequent whispers of words he can't quite hear but can confidently guess at, all go to tell him that Mike Ross and Harvey Specter are not just having wild, sweaty, rampant office sex, although it's all that of course, and more, but they are actually _making love_ to one another, and are, in fact, completely and utterly, totally and so obviously _in_ love.

Mike Ross and Harvey Specter.

In love.

_Fuck._

Biting down on the back of his hand to hold back his tears, Louis lowers his eyes and sinks to the floor as he waits for it all to be over. 

In the end though, he can't resist another peek, and he rises slowly as Harvey seems all but ready to break, and to Louis's ears, it's a sob that he hears when Harvey cries, "Make me come, Mike, please, make me come," a longing, desperate plea of a sob.

And it appears that Mike Ross is more than happy to oblige, if the vigorous thrusting of his hips is anything to go by, and Louis, unable to help himself, continues to watch as Harvey clings to the younger man's white-shirted shoulders, his eyes closed, his mouth half open as he moans and rocks and cries beneath him, and then Harvey's keening and Mike's grunting and Louis feels almost faint with the pain in his knees and knuckles as he grips Donna's desk, and yet he can't move, can't stop looking, can't tear his eyes away for a single second as the two men on the couch in Harvey's office grind and thrust against each other, hands entwining and clinging tightly, their separate, desperate moans mingling as one.

After a while, Mike's hips slow to a standstill, and he kisses Harvey deeply and tenderly before they gaze into one another's eyes, their noses touching, and they laugh a little, a joint peal of soft-tinkling, after-glow laughter, but then soon, and clearly too soon for Harvey and Mike, there are soft sighs of reluctance as they gradually pull apart, and that's when Louis again drops out of sight.

"You know, someone's gonna catch us one of these days," Louis eventually hears Harvey say, closer now, much closer, and he crouches down low beneath the desk, anxiously holding his breath.

"Oh God, just imagine if it was Louis though," Mike chirps back, although his voice is already starting to fade as the pair make their way out of the building. "What the hell would he say, do you think, if he knew?"

Harvey's reply is lost, however, a quiet murmur from the far end of the hallway, and as the lights go out, Louis waits in the darkness, listening to the echo of fading footsteps and the warm, gentle hum of the elevator, until he's sure, quite sure, that he's totally alone.

"I'd say it's beautiful, Mike," he whispers, his tone hushed in awe as he struggles to his feet, and after throwing one last look at the couch now bathed in the shadows of Harvey's office, he says, "Truly beautiful," as he smooths down the creases in his wrinkled suit and leaves.


End file.
